


No One Dies a Virgin

by Androids_in_Metropolis



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, heathers-obviously messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androids_in_Metropolis/pseuds/Androids_in_Metropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one dies a virgin. Life fucks us all.</p><p>-Kurt Cobain </p><p>Jason Dean is one of the victims of circumstance that you don’t hear about on the radio on your way to school. One of the people that everyone knows will go out like a candle in the wind, but wants to go out like a bomb over Afghanistan. He was the one fighting a crazy war with himself, the war that had a made up cause and a made up outcome. Really, both sides lose and the kid dies. It’s basic math-You set of a bomb inside yourself and you’re blown out, not up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Chaos Killed Us All

**Author's Note:**

> Well, a new...thing?
> 
> Please review and tell me what you think :)

Sometimes life comes at you so quick that you don’t know where to turn. Sometimes life fucks you over so bad that you don’t know how to speak. Sometimes life messes with your head until you do things you never thought you would do, never dreamed you could think of. Sometimes life and love mix and it gets messier than a drunk mall rat on pay day. Sometimes love trumps life and everything it’s done to you and just makes it better...sometimes it makes it worse than ever. 

Jason Dean is one of the victims of circumstance that you don’t hear about on the radio on your way to school. One of the people that everyone knows will go out like a candle in the wind, but wants to go out like a bomb over Afghanistan. He was the one fighting a crazy war with himself, the war that had a made up cause and a made up outcome. Really, both sides lose and the kid dies. It’s basic math-You set of a bomb inside yourself and you’re blown out, not up. 

Jason Dean was the kid everyone knew had secrets, he was the one that cried himself to sleep every night only to wake up and wreak havoc on anything too close to him. He was the kid that learned to punch before they learned to hug, the kid that never got to sit at lunch or go to recess because they had nothing to eat and no one to play with. He was the kid that left home to stop getting knocked around only to find that kids are cruel and school fucks you worse than your dad ever could. 

Jason Dean was the silent survivor that would one day simply not survive. Someday he would give up his personal fight with the world and everyone in it to simply become a statistic on Fox News and people talked about the state of the teenage psyche today. He wouldn’t stand out from the crowd of other bodies on the battlefield of life and death. His name wouldn’t be remembered after the obituary. His struggles would never be spoken off. No one would ever look for a cause past the bullet wound through his temple-He would fade away into the distance as the seasons changed until there was nothing but a whole blanket of snow over his prostrate body, praying to God to find a place for him among the angels in Heaven. Praying for acceptance in a new world order. 

Jason Dean was the accident of modern life, the car whose brakes wear out on the edge of the cliff. Jason Dean was the rebel without a cause to speak of, and without someplace he could hide from his dreams. Sometimes dreams come to life, and sometimes they eat you out...mostly they scare you so you cannot sleep. When you cannot sleep you die. Simple as that. Simple as dreams>reality. 

Simple as one (pull), two (the), three (trigger). 

\-----------------------------

It was the middle of the night when Buddy Dean knocked on his son’s motel room door, demanding that the 15 year old wake up immediately and put his damn clothes on. 

“We’re getting out of town now!” Shouted the older man, no doubt waking half the motel complex and making his way into the other halfs dreams as some sort of screaming oger or some equally horrifying monster. Buddy Dean was a monster, of sorts. He was the monster that checked for the monster under the bed but didn’t tell you about the one in the closet. He was the monster that held you hand only to break your fingers later. He was the monster that society calls ‘dad’, and everyone else calls ‘criminal’. 

Jason Dean was one of the 50% woken by his father’s call, and was soon tiredly grabbing all his possessions scattered about the mildew ridden room and opening the door, ready for a move at a moments notice from previous years of practice and a plethora of similar situations. He was already dressed, his hair mussed from sleep and his eyes only half open. He came when called, little more than a dog in the monster's cave. He was nothing but a slave to circumstance. 

Now, only think if things had been different for Jason. What if the circumstances he was subject to were different? What if the man taking his bag and throwing it into the back of a car hadn’t been the one his mother had chosen to procreate with in a moment of carelessness? What if that same mother hadn’t herself broken back in Texas, a little Jason Dean waving at her from the sidewalk across from a rigged library and then been driven away by the monster as the library burned, taking the waving lady with it. That was the one time Jason Dean had seen his father cry for something he had done. What if those tears had meant something? Would have changed the future for his son? Probably not. Salt water never saved a man from dying of thirst before, and probably won’t for a long time yet. 

“Where are we going?” Jason asked, his voice thick with sleep and his movements slow as he tried to clasp the seat belt over his waist, only managing to nick his finger for his effort. Blood quickly rose from the cut, the site causing Jason to smile-Blood didn’t lie. Blood was beautiful. 

Buddy Dean reached across his seat to buckle his son in, frowning as he saw the crimson syrupy liquid Jason was staring too intently at, making note to buy bandaids at the next 24/7 7/11 they stopped at. Sometimes Buddy wondered if he had done the right thing by his son, but as quickly as the thought came it ran away again, leaving nothing more than a nagging feeling of forgetfulness in Buddy Dean’s head. Life had left it’s mark on him, and it was only too obvious. 

“We’re going to Sherwood, Ohio,” Buddy Dean replied, starting the car and speeding out of the motel parking lot, leaving nothing behind but a mind wrapper on his bed and a few whispered echoes of a plan to blow up congress, which he knew would come to nothing. 

‘Sherwood...’ thought Jason, rolling the thought around in his tired brain. Where had he heard that name before? It made him think of his childhood, of times when he would stay up late in the back of their camper van reading fairy stories and war accounts with equal gusto..one name struck a bell-Robin Hood, the rogue who stole from the rich to give to the poor; A sin and a bible verse in one. 

It was a concept that Jason was all too familiar with-Kill the strong so the weak have a chance. After all, it’s only war. 

\------------------------------------------

It was Summer when they arrived in Sherwood, Ohio. School had just let out and there were kids Jason’s age milling around everywhere, not sure what to do with the freedom they fought for all year long. Jason Dean stayed inside, exercising his right to be different. 

He stayed inside and thought about things. Things that shouldn’t be thought about when you are sad and all alone, things that no one his age should even know how to visualize. He sat in his new room thinking his old thoughts; What if...can I? What’s wrong with me...Why am I different than the rest? 

His father had always told him that to be different was a gift. it was a sign that you were the new being that would move in when chaos took the last being that just wasn’t good enough to keep up in the genetic race for power. After all, Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, and what came of that? 

Jason couldn’t help but feel that his difference wasn’t a social advantage though, and it was simply an unfortunate cross he happened to bare. He never asked to be special, to have a brain that could think of a hundred and one ways to kill someone before he thought to ask their name. That wasn’t a difference that was worth much in the long run-What would be the point of surviving if you survived alone?

\------------------------------


	2. Chapter Two: Party for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a strange girl, a party code, and nothing to defend one road from another.

Summer past as quickly and painlessly as it had come, ruffling the leaves and hair of anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the snap of the Autumn cold. Jason Dean was among the few who stayed inside until the very last minute before going to school on a rainy Monday morning in early Autumn. None of the soft heat of Summer was left to warm his tear stained face on the morning that his Junior year of High School took place. None of the soft Summer light was left to guide him home on his way back from the Hell that he would learn to commute to from his own personal Heaven. 

No one spoke to him after the first day, not even Kurt and Ram (the infamous gruesome two). He learned that in High School his place was much like his place at home; In a corner with his head buried in a book or in his arms, trying to catch up on sleep that evaded him at night. 

Jason Dean learned an important lesson his first week of school in Sherwood, Ohio. He learned acceptance is something only found among the dead. People cannot sympathize with the living, but when you are cold and blue you might as well have been a sait. He learned the only place people like him and people like them could get along was in Heaven. 

It took exactly four months and a half for anyone to notice Jason Dean sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, not eating, not drinking...just sitting and watching the ecosystem of the school unfold as if in some sort of sick human documentary crossed with a game show. Jason Dean would sit and watch them running around like ants to a food source, no person but to be noticed. He would watch and smile as he saw it all unfold, no one noticing the sick reality of it all; In three years time none of this would remain, and none of it would matter any longer. The students of Westerburg high schools graduating class in 1989 wouldn’t be remembered as any different that the ones before them-There would be a few new trophies in the case, and a few more names on the walls, but other than that, assuming the building still stood the school would be virtually unchanged by any of the goings on in 1988. 

The thought depressed Jason, though he always knew it was true. He spent most of those four and a half months thinking about it, in fact, and still he couldn’t get the nagging feeling that something would be different this time out of his head. He felt like he could change something...like the school would remember them in 1990 and onwards...like something would give. Something had to give. 

When something did give, at the end of Four and Half months it wasn’t what Jason had expected at all. It was the fact that he was noticed. He was noticed, and not just by anyone. He was noticed by Veronica Sawyer. She was no ordinary girl, despite her ordinary name (Veronica Anne Sawyer). She was nearly as cynical and dark as Jason himself, but with no cause to see the world in black and white. It was just her way. She had no backstory, no traumatizing past. She simply was as she was and had always been as far as Jason could tell. 

That was when he was noticed. He was noticed by the extraordinary girl with the ordinary name. How they met though…

Jason Dean met her in the cafeteria when she walked to his table and slammed her hand down, demanding attention. Looking up he had been shocked to see not one of the three most popular girls, or one of the bullies but rather the most special popular...the most irregular popular. Veronica Sawyer was the glitch in the system of popular. She was the odd one out, and here she was, at his table, demanding that he hear her out. 

“I want you to come to a party I’m having at my house,” she said, looking him up and down as if seeing him for the first time (who knew, it may have been her first time...he wouldn’t know). That was the second weird thing (the first being that she had talked to him at all)-Jason Dean wouldn’t have pegged Veronica Sawyer as the type to have parties...She seemed to float above all that hype. Then again, she seemed to be full of extraordinary things. Jason Dean was stuck trying to figure her out, find out how she thought. That was the main reason he said he would come. He wanted to know how her brain worked...what she thought about. His consent was a social experiment. 

\--------------

There was no party. 

Jason Dean arrived at the given address, a six pack of beer under his arm (courtesy of his oh so forth right father) and found the yard empty except for the hostess herself, wearing a pair of blue and white pin striped pajamas. He hadn’t expected that, either. 

“Hey,” he said easily, pretending as if he met pajama clad girls in their gardens on a regular basis without explanation. “Do you drink beer?” he asked, holding up the cardboard box of the offending beverage. Veronica pulled a face and shook her head. “Good, me neither,” Jason replied, already chatting as if they had known each other for weeks. 

“Want to come in?” Veronica asked, nodding at the gate which remained closed between them. Jason looked down at where she nodded, noticing that she was shifting from foot to foot on the damp grass. He noticed how her arms hugged her, and her shoulders hunched slightly forward. He noticed how she wasn’t wearing shoes and how she was looking at him questioningly and he felt his mind blank of it’s usual frantic activity and all he knew was that the strange girl in the pajamas wanted him to come inside. 

“Sure,” Jason replied, tossing the six pack into the trash bin waiting to be picked up and hopping easily over the fence, landing in front of her. She took a step back. He took a step forward. Soon they had made it into the house and she was offering him coffee and he was saying yes and neither of them knew what was going on for sure. All Jason knew for sure was he was crazy and she was different than the other girls in Sherwood. She was happily different. All Veronica knew for sure was that the boy she had noticed four and half months ago on his first day of school was finally in front of her, talking easily about anything, and that he seemed to be the friend she had been desperately searching for in the dark world that Ohio had proven to be for an intellectual such as herself. 

They talked for over an hour, neither of them mentioning the apparent lack of party. They talked of everyday things like books, school, and the friends which neither of them trusted or wanted to have in the first place. Before Jason knew what was going on Veronica was taking him to her room. She showed him her book collection, and her manuscripts stored tidily and secretly under the bed. 

Finally Jason worked up the courage (and remembered) to ask the all important question of the moment-”Why?” 

Veronica blinked at him, looking over the edge of her bed down at him. He was reading her copy of Snow White, his back propped against the bed and she had leaned over him reading over his head. He looked up at her, and she looked down and when their eyes met Jason forgot why he needed to know anyway...he forgot what was so bad about the world, about the houses he had lived in before, about the fact that he knew how to make a bomb and not how to talk to a pretty girl. He forgot why he had spent the Summer tucked away inside and he forgot why he hated going into libraries...just for a moment it was all crystal clear and then as soon as it had come it had gone and they were left blinking at each other in silence, as of yet no explanation given. 

“Why?” Veronica repeated, not sure of the answer. It had been a spur of the moment thing. A thing that hadn’t been approved by the Heathers or the school or her parents. It had been her thing, her little act of rebellion to ask the stranger to her house and let him easily into her life. She had watched him from her spot in the caf. She had noted that he talked to no one, that he looked dangerously on edge. She saw how he read and talked to himself. He was a classic basket case, and she was a hidden case of the same and she just wanted to get to know him. “Because,” she began, smiling softly. “You looked like you wanted my company.” 

“Do you know my name?” Jason asked, brushing her answer off. Of course he didn’t want her company. He didn’t need company. He was happy alone, or as close to happy as he could get. He only wanted to know her so he could find out why she was different. He wanted to know what kept her sane. She did the same thing as everyone else, wore the same clothes, talked to the same people...but she wasn’t like them. She was different somehow, and that drove Jason’s mind off a rale trying to figure out the big question...why?

“I do, it’s Jason Dean, right?” Veronica said, flipping herself off the bed so she was sitting next to him. She could feel his body heat escaping from his jacket and she was surprised at how personal it felt. She could hear his every breath. “What’s my name?”

“Veronica, Veronica Sawyer,” Jason replied before an idea hit him, “And I am JD.” 

 

\-------------------------------------------

Jason Dean slept alone at home, his body thrown across his bed. He could come and go from the house as he pleased. He had always been allowed to do so. The night he met Veronica Sawyer and she met JD (the Jason Dean that did care, even though he tried his best to not) he came at an ungodly hour and left for school on time. That night he knew that maybe, just maybe the word had bright patches that he could live inside of. Maybe there were sunspots that hid the real dark for a while. Maybe he could be okay, and maybe next summer he wouldn’t sleep the days away. 

“Veronica Sawyer...the different one. Different like me, but different from that too…” Jason Dean mused to himself that night, looking up at his white ceiling. He was the one the world screwed over and so he tried to hurt it back by hurting himself and anyone who got too close to him. He was the one that went out like a firecracker under your feet. He wanted to go that way. Veronica was the one that stayed and fought only against the bars that held her in. He would do great things, and so would she but two different ways and Jason wasn’t sure which way was better after the late night conversations he had with Veronica nearly every night after their first party for two.


	3. Chapter Three: I am Damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am damaged, far too damaged

JD (as he was known now across the board) sat at his desk, looking over his paper. it was covered in black lines from the now broken pen, bleeding black ink onto his hands and his clothes. He could see bodies in the lines. He could see blood, and bones. He was scared. Thoughts like this took over his mind when he was alone and left to his thoughts. He hated being alone. 

Veronica was his only friend, and she was the only person who could keep the dark shadows out of his mind. When she was talking to him she was the only thing he could hear and see. When he was alone...that was a different story. He was so tired. So fucking tired. When he was with his dad he wanted to wrap his fingers around his throat, wanted to suck the life out of him. 

He wondered more and more if he loved. He certainly didn’t have people that he loved like Veronica did, or even Heather. He didn’t love his dad, or at least, he didn’t think he did. You didn’t want to kill the people you love, did you? He had never heard of it before. He wondered if people felt like he did...he wondered if other people had the thoughts he did. He wanted to know if other people could feel the killer in them, if they knew that if they were given the chance they would take it. 

Pushing the desk away from him angrily he got up, feeling tears rising to his eyes. Why was it so hard? He could tell society about how damaged he was (far too damaged) but people would say that anyway. He was a victim of society, society would say he was the victim of the new age. Veronica told him he was beautiful... the question was which way was the right way in the eye of the storm? Which answer was the right one to an unasked question?

He began to take of his clothes, looking down at himself and wondering at what cost he was here. Wondering if his father was like he was before he was born. He wondered if his mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for him. He wondered if he was as crazy as his father. 

All these thoughts were running through his head as he climbed into the shower and let the cold water fall. He had talked to Veronica (his only friend and confidant...they had met and continued to meet in unusual circumstance) of his thoughts, of all the dark places his mind would wonder. He told her about the ideas that if he just died things would be better for the world. He told her about how his dad did things...terrible things, things no one could prove. 

He looked down at the water quickly escaping down the drain, watched it make it’s grand break for freedom from his own tap. It was ridiculous, but watching it get away made him happy. He liked the feeling that if all else failed you could always fade away into some long lost sister land called Heaven. He liked the idea that you could just fade into the distance and no one would remember your name or face or who you went with. 

He had a date with Veronica later that night. He had to get his act together. He had to brush his hair, and teeth. Get some clean clothes on (though it wasn’t as if she’d care if he wasn’t in clothes) and maybe find some popcorn. They would probably end up watching a movie anyway, so snacks were always a must. He had never imagined friendship could be so easy, but he and Veronica...they just fit. They were easy together. 

As quickly as his thoughts had gone to a bad place he knew if he tried hard enough he could drag them back just as quickly after the minor shower melt down. As if on command the doorbell rang, and JD grabbed a towel and ran down the stairs to answer it, nearly falling into Veronica as she stepped in the door. 

“Hey, Sport, what’s up?” She asked, looking him over and finding herself unable to keep from laughing at his towel clad skinny torso. She could have sworn she saw his spine through his stomach. 

JD laughed, looking down at his feet. She knew how to make him smile. That was something no one had ever bothered to learn before. She was the first person he had ever really talked to…

“Nothing much. How ‘bout you, princess?” He asked, leading Veronica up to his room, and shutting the door behind them. He didn’t want his dad to come in unannounced...it only ever made for uncomfortable and hasty exits. He grabbed a pair of pants off the floor and slipped them on, letting his towel drop to the floor and then laying down on the bed next to Veronica, who was watching him, not even the slightest blush showing on her pale cheeks. 

“Can I kiss you?” Veronica blurted, looking down at him as she raised herself onto her elbows and looked him in the eyes, unabashed. She looked totally cool in her bold request, unblinking and waiting easily for a reply. She had seen him in the caf and thought he was attractive (much to the Heathers disgust) and asked him home. She had gotten to know him over the past few weeks and now she thought of him as her friend...the one friend she didn’t hate. A friend could kiss her friend, couldn’t she? It wasn’t like they were together…

JD blinked up at her, shocked before sitting up and pressing his lips to hers. He was tentative, careful. He wasn’t sure how serious she had been, but found that he wanted to try it, regardless of whether or not she had been serious. He forced himself to pull away, dropping back to the bed and looking at her questioningly, wondering if he was going to get her speech or of she would kiss him back or maybe she would leave...God, he hoped she didn’t leave. He could feel the fear building up in his chest as the idea took root, but his fears were put to rest as she knelt down over him and brushed her lips against his one more time before pulling back and smiling at him. 

“That’s nice,” she whispered (a tone JD had never heard her use), “Did you like it?” she asked, seriously. 

JD had never kissed anyone before, not even once. He wasn’t sure what it was meant to feel like, or if he had done it right, but it seemed he had and oh god, had it felt good. He nodded, feeling a blush over his cheeks. He could only imagine how red he must be-He, Jason Dean, the child of Big Bud Dean (notorious and infamous in nearly every state across America) had not only made a friend, but kissed a girl too...All the dark clouds over his head, weighing him down seemed to have lifted for the moment and he found himself feeling halfway normal. 

“Yeah, it was good,” He replied, the awkward blush fading slightly as he rubbed his hand over his hair, tousling in further and looked back at the ceiling. “So...what was that about?” he asked, not sure he even wanted to know. He was just pleased it had happened, and with Veronica...the girl he could never predict. 

“It was....I dunno, JD, do you ever think about, you know, dating?” Veronica asked, all the bravado from the kiss gone and in it’s wake and awkward girl in blue sat next to him, looking down at his face as he looked up at the roof, both of their minds in the same place, wondering the same things. 

“I dunno...Ronnie, you know I’m messed up, right? I’m damaged merchandise,” JD answered, his tone joking but his eyes completely serious. It was true-He’d never thought about dating, really. He’d never let himself. He knew that someday he might just break clean in half and take down whoever was next to him as well. He didn’t want that person to be Veronica. She was his friend, and friends didn’t want friends to die...theoretically. 

“You’re alright, JD. You’re just a character. You wouldn’t hurt me, I don’t think. I mean, would you?” Veronica looked down at JD, her eyes unmoving from his. She was hoping-wishing-that she knew the answer. She wanted to know…

“I don’t know,” JD signed, closing his eyes to block out her even gaze. “I don’t know...I don’t want to think so, but sometimes...Veronica, sometimes I want to strangle everyone around me. I can see my hands around their necks, and then, then I just let go. It’s hard though, darling, letting go gets harder and harder…” 

“I think you’d stop...I think I could make you stop,” Veronica said slowly, rolling the thought around in her head. She knew JD was like this (she had even gotten out a few psych books and started to pour over them trying to diagnose him) and she knew that he could, and probably was, dangerous, but she trusted him. He was intoxicating, and she trusted him. 

“What if I didn’t? What if being friends with me gets too hard? If we do that again...what if I don’t want to let go?” JD asked, his voice low. He didn’t want to admit it, but what if he lost control? What if Veronica got scared and left? He wouldn’t be able to handle that. If they stayed friends…

“JD, you know me better than that,” Veronica said definitely. “You know I don’t get scared like that. What if I didn’t want to let you go? I mean, we’re friends already...if you’re scared of dating me because we’ll get too close, being friends is just as bad and we manage.” 

JD opened his eyes, looking up at Veronica through his eyelashes. She was breathing hard, her fist kneaded into the bedspread. She looked serious. She was making good points…

“Would you want me?” JD asked finally, “I mean, really?” He looked at her questioningly, his chest heaving up at down in rhythm to his crazy fast heart beat. He had never been so nervous in his life...saying ‘yes’ to the question she had hedged around would be a huge step, a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Saying no might mean losing his only friend. 

“Yes,” Veronica breathed, letting out a small sigh as she saw that JD had wavered and was thinking on the same lines she was. Honestly, she hadn’t been planning to kiss him, or ask him about it, or anything...but randomness was her call, and if she was going to date someone she wanted it to be the one friend who didn’t totally bite. 

“Then yes,” JD replied, letting her unasked question go unclarified. They both knew what the ‘yes’ meant. It meant ‘yes, I’ll kiss you,’ and ‘yes, i’ll always let you go,’ and ‘yes, I need you, even though I didn’t know it, I need you.’ 

Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, loves:)
> 
> xxx


	4. Chapter Four: Myriad of Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A death in Sherwood

Social Norms-What is normal? That was a question that JD found himself wondering nearly daily as the days went on, as he spent more and more time with Veronica. He went to her parties (he found that there were more than two people which was somewhat a shock. He also found that they appreciated his cheap beer more than Veronic had). He said nice things when they seemed to be expected. He kissed her after dark, letting her know that he was there and had no intention of going anywhere. 

He wondered if the diary part of her-The teenage angst bull shit part of her was the bigger, normal part. He wondered if the parties and high heels part of her was more real, more normal. He wondered if the girl who talked to him over the phone as he fell asleep, telling him all about her day and who did what with so-and-so. 

JD thought about asking her what she thought ‘normal’ was a thousand and one times but for some reason he always ended up biting it back, letting it go. He didn’t need to bring that into their...whatever they had. He shut his mouth and let her do the talking, smiling and even laughing as she told him her little tiffs and secrets. He listened as she told him about the Heathers and the Rams and Kurts of her world. He listened as she asked him questions about his life and he tried his best to answer. 

“What was it like before you moved here?” she asked one night, looking down at her newly painted blue and white nails. She was cradling the phone against her shoulder as she painted her other hand, careful not to spill the toxic smelling beauty product onto her new night dress. She liked the little blue night dress that JD had made her out of one of his shirts, telling her that it was meant for her. She had to agree-Blue was her colour. 

“Before Sherwood,” JD murmured, laying back against his pillows in his bed, wondering what was going on on the other side of the line. “Well, before Sherwood I don’t remember much...I didn’t pay attention. I’ve been to ten high schools, but I don’t know the names or faces of any one there. You’re the only one that stood out to me,” he admitted slily, his smirk evident even over the phone. 

Veronica laughed at the simple flirtation. He wasn’t one for open romantic antics, but oh...when you could calm him down, when he was alone...he was the sweetest boy she could have wished for, and he understood her soul. At least, that’s what it felt like when he looked into her eyes and told her all the things they could go on to do; They could be soldiers in a new world order. They would be sovereign rulers. They could go to college and learn anything and everything and they could forget about anyone who made her cry. He brought her roses once. It had only been about five months since they had gotten to know each other, and as few as three since they started going (or whatever kind of relationship they had...one of mutual need?) and already he had made her feel special. He said he needed her…

“And before me, wasn’t there someone else?” Veronica fished, her mischievous smile playing across her lips, though no one was there to witness it. “You’re a good guy. There must have been someone,” she prodded when no answer came to her receiver. 

“No, no one,” JD whispered, suddenly feeling the crushing news of his reality. There had been no one. Veronica was the first person who had offered to care. She was the first person he didn’t immediately know everything about. She was the only person he couldn’t read as if they were an open book waiting for him to tear the pages from it. “No one but you, Darling. You’ve got first and last place.”

Veronica shuddered as his tone changed and JD’s voice croaked, almost sickly sweet into her ear. He was asking for something from her...her devotion? Veronica didn’t know. All the knew was that her body, her soul, her whole being wanted to give whatever it was to him no matter what the personal price. He sounded so kind, so lonely. He needed her and she needed to be needed. 

A loney boy with a lonely girl, two great minds, and nothing to hold them back from whatever they chose that they wanted. If it was the world, they’d have it in their shaking hands, their sick and twisted mouths unmoving as no words rose from spit lilted lips. 

\----------------------

Veronica tied the scrunchie around her black ponytail, chuckling as Heather Chandler patted her back in the friendly way she had grown accustomed to from her time as the Veronica among Heathers. Chandler’s smile wasn’t as friendly as her gesture though, and Veronica could imagine the fangs of a vampire sucking the realness, the uniqueness out of her life. 

“Why do you try so hard to stand out, Veronica?” she cooed, her voice menacing as it bounced of the tiled bathroom walls. “Why do you need so badly to be a Veronica when you could be a Heather?” 

The question hung stagnant in the air. Veronica had no reply, no answer to the ever asked question. Instead Veronica pulled easily away and smiled at Chandler, turning on her heel to show her the work she had done; A new blouse in the latest cut, her skirt hemmed to the perfect length, her hair in the latest way. 

“What do you think?” She asked, changing the subject, or trying to. She didn’t want to think about why she didn’t want to be just like Heather. She wanted to be a Veronica. She wanted to be JD’s Veronica. She wanted to be the girl she started school as, go to college and live her life as that girl instead of as the Heather that was on the brink of breaking through her. ‘

“You look like a Heather,” Chandler said smugly, looking over her handy work and subtly telling Veronica that she wasn’t off that easily. Chandler didn’t want to have a ‘one that got away’. She wanted everyone to be perfect, to be like her, and if they couldn’t do that than they should serve their betters. It’s as easy as that, as a two tier social system in a new world order; the order of the Heathers. It would be easy enough. It would make everything alright again. It was all just to prove him wrong-’See Daddy, you just didn’t understand...they all want to be me, see?’ she laughed to herself, thinking of the man she once called father sitting somewhere now sorely deprived of her holy and united being. 

Veronica shied away from Chandler's touch, looking back at the mirror and for a split second seeing a Heather instead of a Veronica...she was getting to her. Chandler knew it-She could see the cracks manifesting and showing their ugly shadowed faces through her crystal facade of a girl dressed in blue. Of a Veronica on point. Of a girl with two pearl earrings...of a girl in a dance with a boy she loved, and a girl she couldn’t stand. A girl in motion. 

Silent tears would guide her home. 

“Thanks, Heather,” was the only rebuke the blonde received for her offhand insult wrapped in sugar. 

\------------------------

“Who made you cry?” JD said, almost viciously as he noted Veronica’s tear stained face and messy hair. Long since had Chandler’s handiwork been taken off, her work put to rest until it was needed again for the coming day. She looked a mess, slumped against her bed, her hands knotted into her blue flannel pajama pants. JD cupped her cheeks in his shaking hands and looked at her, willing her to tell him. He could feel the anger (the destructive force) seeping out of him as he looked at her, but at the same time he wanted to put a bullet through the person that had brought his strong Veronica to tears. “You can tell me, love...promise I won't’ bite them,” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple and brushing the hair out of her eyes. 

“I don’t need you to bite them, Jason,” Veronica giggled, imagining the scene in her head; JD running after Chandler, his perfect white teeth sinking into her perfectly white skin. Even her blood must be red. She quickly shook the thought out of her head, knowing that that probably wasn’t too far off from what JD had been planning to do in the real world just moments before. She knew he hated to see her hurt. It made her feel loved, every time he would use his aggression to pull down someone who had berated her until she had fallen. Something inside her didn’t want to see Chandler crying as he spoke circles around her in his oh-so-calm manner. SOmething inside her wanted to protect both Chandler and JD from each other. “I promise, I’m okay now...tell me, what have you been up to today?” she asked coolly, changing the subject as easily as the Heathers bought new shoes. 

JD was prepared to pounce when her cool words brought him down from the place in his head that wanted to kill everyone around him (not Veronica...Never Veronica). He thought about her question, rolling it around in his too quick mind. 

“I’ve been up to nothing,” he chuckled, the lie coming so easily to his lips it was almost a truth. If he was completely honest he had been lying in bed, looking at the ceiling and wondering what might have been. All the maybes in his complicated childhood...all the could haves and the once had beens. He wouldn’t tell her that though, not after she had been crying. 

“Oh?” Veronica replied, not even the slightest bit suspicious of the boy who she lay her head on, letting her eyes fall shut just in time to miss the panic growing behind his. Sometimes he couldn’t keep the ideas away...sometimes things his father had taught him kept him up at night, or stopped him from dreaming...even when the lights were on. If she had seen the glint that entered his eyes she would have been concerned. She would have wondered what was going to happen. She would have later wondered how instead of why. 

As it was, there can be no use in wishing she had seen the signs. He wished she had so she could have talked him down from his cloud, so she could have gotten him to take the date with a psychiatrist that she had been asking him to meet with for a while. So that maybe, when the time came, he would have taken the pills that might have been in his coat pocket or in his nightstand. So that maybe he would have seen clearly for the moment. 

\-----------------------

Sherwood Tribune (Daily) May 22, 1988

Heather Chandler was found dead at approximately 9am today. The authorities cite suicide as the reason of death and poison as the cause. A note was found on Chandler (17) at the scene of the death. 

We have decided to publish it here as a tribute and a warning. Please read the following with caution. 

Dear Dad…

Believe it or not, I knew about fear;  
I knew the way loneliness stung.  
You taught this to me...remember when I was young?  
Before mom took me, before it all went wild. Before high school, and before perfection.   
I hid behind smiles and crazy hot clothes;  
I learned to kiss boys with my tongue. 

But oh, the world, it held me down;  
it weighed like a concrete prom queen crown.

No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings.  
(you taught me that they shouldn’t) 

No one gets her insecurity.  
I am more than shoulder pads and makeup.  
No one sees the me inside of me.  
They couldn't see past my rockstar mystique,  
They wouldn't dare look in my eyes.  
But just underneath was a terrified girl  
who clings to her pillow and cries!  
My looks were just like prison bars;  
they've left me a myriad of scars.

No one thinks a pretty girl has substance. That's the curse of popularity. This is the curse you left with me, Dad. All those time you told me I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t smart enough? 

Box up my clothing for Goodwill,  
and give the poor my Nordic Track.  
Donate my car to crippled kids,  
or to those ghetto moms on crack.  
Give them my hats and my CDs,  
my pumps and my flats, my three TVs!

xxxx  
Forever in(m)perfection.   
Heather Chandler.

 

We hope to see many of you at her funeral on May 30, 1988. We will be welcoming her friends and family at Sherwood memorial hall for the public viewing and then the cremation ceremony and brunch. 

May Heather Chandler forever rest in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please :)


	5. Chapter Five: He Couldn't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD can't know everything.

Veronica sucked in air like she had been drawing. She was dead. She was really, and truly dead. She had no reason to think otherwise, but somewhere in the back of her mind she was hoping to God that she wasn’t really dead. She was only pretending. After all, Chandler was a pretender of unusual proportions. She could pretend her way out of everything...every bad situation could be imagined away. Veronica had seen in happen in front of her own two eyes. Chandler could wriggle from an unwanted touch and pretend she had let him have her all. She could cross the road and start talking to you and she could pretend she had never been angry in the first place. The worst part was the you almost always believed her. She was just pretending to be dead, and Veronica was believing her...yes, that’s what was going on. Just like she had believed her when she said they weren’t friends and then had come back and said they were. Just like she always believed her. 

She could hear Chandler’s voice in her ear, but it was JD’s words she intoned; ‘Life is a pointless exercise. Everyone will die anyway. Some people just spend more time dying. Really, dying is the only true birth since you can only live once you are dead.’ 

It was a totally messed up way of looking at things, and Veronica knew that even JD didn’t believe it. 

She sat down on the bed and cried late into the night, not bothering to call Jason...Too much was running through her head for her to force words through her mouth. 

\----------------------------

 

JD sat on his own bed on the other side of the neighborhood, his head in his hands. Chandler had died. People said it was suicide. JD knew it probably was. He knew about her past. He knew about her father, and about her fears and everything that she tried to hide. He knew it all simply by looking at her. He could tell what had been going on her life based on her not so well hidden personal moments. He could tell every time someone mentioned her father-The near disgust almost fear that coloured her face. He knew of the days she just wanted to die-It was all in her eyes. 

The monsters in his head were telling him that some how it was all his fault. The voice was telling him he did he, that he killed her. He could see the blood on his hands though he knew he hadn’t ever touched her in his life, let alone poured a drano cocktail down her unyielding throat. Still, the other part of his mind (maybe the more sane part) wanted to have noticed the warning signs (If there had been any). He wanted to have been able to have saved her...not that it would have been any good now. He wanted to feel in control. 

He lay back and let the tears run down the sides of his face, letting them pool in his ears and stain his pillow. He didn’t call Veronica that night. Everything hurt too much to talk to her. He didn’t want to let her take his shit, not tonight when she was probably up to her ears in her own crap from the day. 

\-----------------

The blood on his hands was as invisible as the disembodied voice inside his head. Still, JD found himself fretting over it for days before he brought himself to answer Veronica’s calls. He felt terrible, but he hadn’t wanted to drag her down. She had come to his house several times over the past few times, asking to see him. He had turned her away, locking himself in his room and letting his mind run wild over all lines he had constructed to protect himself from his own thoughts. He knew it wasn’t the brave thing to do...it did seem like the safest way. The least painful way. 

Now he couldn’t take it any more. Now he admitted to himself that he wasn’t brave. He wasn’t able to play the hero forever and that hurt just as much (if not more) than shutting her out had. 

“Hello?” JD mumbled into receiver. His voice wavered with the anticipation of a reply. Anything to solidify the fact that he was still there, in the world. That people could hear him. His father virtually ignored him, and even if he tried to talk to him he was fairly sure that he would receive to reciprocal answer, no pat on the back and a ‘you’re doing alright, kid,’ from his old man. Veronica was the only person he could always depend on to answer the phone, and now he shook in the thought that maybe he had blocked her out just like everyone else. 

Veronica picked up the phone, hoping against her better judgment that it would be her Jason calling (It felt silly to call him that, though he had assured her that if he was anyone’s he was her’s). He hadn’t called in days. Not even a note saying hello. She knew he was dealing with something, though she wasn’t sure what, and though she felt for him she hated him a little for the fact that he had her so completely wrapped around his fingers and yet he had shut her away from his life when he needed someone. 

“Hello?” she replied, the phone pressed to her ear as she did the dinner dishes from a lonely meal with herself. Her parents were out, and dinner had been a solemn affair. Normally she would have asked Martha or one of the Heathers over, but with JD acting like he was she was too preoccupied to have thought that far ahead.

“Veronica,” JD whispered, the air gushing out of him as he slumped against his desk, looking into space as he listened to her soft breathing on the other side of the line. “I’m sorry...Ronnie, I should have called you. I should have asked if you were alright...I’m sorry Veronica,” JD stopped speaking, letting his words peter off into silence. 

Veronica took a deep breath, having stopped breathing as JD gushed over the phone. She had been worried. She had been scared. She had wondered what happened to them, and if JD still wanted her...She had been angry….  
It was like JD could fix all her problems and when he timidly asked her if she was okay-if she could forgive him-she jumped in and said yes, all her previous, logical thoughts having been pushed away by just the sound of his voice. 

“Can I come over? I want to see you...I mean, a lot has happened, are you sure you’re okay?” JD asked, letting himself relax for the first time in days. Veronica’s very breathing was calming. It was a soft reminder that she was still there, and that he could even walk over to her, though her….feel her beating heart against his hand. “I’m sorry about Heather…”

“Why are you sorry?” Veronica found herself asking, wondering why she was doing it. Of course he was saying sorry-It wasn’t as it a thousand other people who had no reason to be sorry hadn’t already told her that they wished it could have ended some other way. People who hated Chandler’s guts had said sorry. Who was she to ask for an explanation of the social norm? Who was JD to answer?

“I mean, I felt like I killed her, Ronnie. I didn’t touch her,” he added quickly after his first sentence. “I didn’t touch her, but I saw it. I knew she was getting closer to it...I knew she hurt, Ronnie,” he said, as if saying her name would make the gnawing feeling of guilt subside from within his chest. It wasn’t a new feeling. It was the same feeling he had when he thought of his mother. It was the ‘I couldn’t have helped,’ feeling that people are so accustomed to it today's upside down society where to walk away is the easy option and to help means to give something up. 

“JD,” Veronica whispered, wishing that she could hug him and cry to him at the same time, “JD, I know you didn’t do it...and you couldn’t have helped. Everyone said she was going to hell...I mean, I hope she is in heaven now, JD,” She mumbled, not making any sense, not even to herself. Her thoughts were clear though; I know you are a good person. I think I am a good person, too. Heather too….somewhere in her soul. 

“Want to come spend the night?” JD asked, getting the meaning of her fumbled reprise. Even though he still felt sick with guilt her words had taken the edge off the blade pierced into his heart. Every Time someone died he could think of a thousand ways he could have helped and every time he knew that he didn’t even try. Didn’t notice and understand until too late. 

Even now as Kurt kissed Ram hard behind the trees in the moon illuminated woods JD knew what they were doing. It wasn’t his place to tell. He wouldn’t say a word. What he didn’t know was that there was someone watching them, someone listening to their sounds and looking at their snake-like contortions and zeroing in on their hearts which both beat to the same, quick rhythm of ‘I. Want. You.’

There are some things not even JD can notice, like how a certain person held a gun close to their legs and under their clothes. How that same person knew everyone. How that same person was maybe even more observant that JD. How that person was silent in a different way; They spoke multitudes, but the words meant nothing.   
“Sure, that sounds great,” Veronica replied, holding the phone to her shoulder and calling to her mother to let her know she would be at Martha’s that night. She was a good liar. “See you in ten,” she added before hanging up and grabbing her things before stepping out the door and into the cool night air. 

She didn’t hear the gunshot ring out over Sherwood forest. Neither did he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...Sherwood forest was too good. Please review?


	6. Chapter Six: Plans Soon to be Fired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plan must be made after the gun shots in the night.

The star quarterbacks of Westerburg high were both dead. The news reached the students of Westerburg high on the radio before they went to school. JD and Veronica listened to the story, shaking as they held each other on the bed they slept in. The sheets were crumpled, their socks tangled as their feet had been at the end of their bed, thrown off in the heat of a warm night. 

“Dead?” Veronica croqued, her eyes red rimmed. She had no sympathy for the football player in question. She had no love for them. Still...they hadn’t deserved to die. The news said it had been a double suicide over a suppressed homosexual romance between the two. JD shuddered. He had known. He had known about it. He had seen their secret touches, their hidden kisses. He hadn’t seen this coming though...he was always two steps behind. Always a day late. They had seemed happy...He hadn’t said anything because they didn’t look like the type of people to go out and get themselves shot. 

Then again, no one had thought that Chandler was sick of living either. 

Veronica cleared her throat, her knees brought to her chest. Thoughts were running through her head too quickly to keep track off. She couldn’t tell where they were going, and she didn’t even try. Clamping her eyes shut she let herself try and sort through her thoughts on her own, letting her mind whirl. 

JD watched her carefully, not sure where she might be going. He nervously bit his lip, mirroring her nervous actions. She was shaking with the intensity of her thought. He was shaking with regret, with fear. 

Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose as the silver screen in the back of her mind began to clear of fog and she began to be able to see what her brain had been seeing all along. Chandler, now Kurt and Ram...the top three rungs of the social hierarchy. They all offed themselves. They died within weeks of each other. That wasn’t normal. Sure, suicide was an epidemic in places like Japan and China, but not little old Westerburg. People didn’t just go around offing themselves in Sherwood Ohio...hell, you couldn’t even repaint your house without calling a town meeting and making sure people agreed on the colour. 

It didn’t add up, and as she explained it to JD she saw understanding dawning in his shattered eyes. He didn’t look good. He didn’t look happy. The idea seemed to please him though, and Veronica wondered if she would ever understand the sick twists and turns his mind seemed to hold. His ability to turn any feeling into self loathing and guilt. 

“So you think someone is killing them?” JD said, nodding as Veronica’s thought took root in his own mind. The best part about their relationship (if that’s what you could call the intertwined loose ends they were picking up together) was that they could easily trade thoughts and ideas with minimal speaking and explaining. Things tend to get jumbled up when you try and articulate them in words. At least, they did for JD. He had a feeling they did for Veronica too. 

“Yes, I do,” Veronica said, seriously. Her face was deadpan, but JD could see the barely disguised excitement directly beyond the fear in her eyes. It was no secret that Veronica hadn’t been on good terms with any of the recently diseased. They were best friends, as far as the skin. Veronica had never trusted Chandler any further than she could throw her. JD could feel the same excitement building up with him. He listened in rapture as Veronica went through lists of reasons that she thought it was murder, and not suicide. 

Every reason made sense to JD. Every single bullet point on her list, every tap of Veronica’s finger, took a little of the guilt that had been crushing his heart since the first death. He began to pick his mind for suspects, looking at each of the faces he had never bothered to really learn before. Sure, nearly everyone at Westerburg had reasons to hate the people who were dead so far. The question was, who had the most reason?

“Martha?” JD asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, Chandler took you away from her, Ram humiliated her, Kurt tried to hurt you. All of them have been nasty to her for years, it makes sense…” 

JD was shaken out of his thoughts as Veronica shook her head violently, and he wondered what he had said wrong. Sometimes he didn't’ understand why people acted the way they did, and even Veronica didn’t understand why he could say some of the things he said so easily. He wondered what he had said wrong…

“It’s not Martha!” Veronica nearly yelled, managing to bring her voice back down to normal as she saw the shocked looked on JD’s face after her outburst. She realized that he probably didn’t know what he had said to make her so angry...He didn’t understand that Martha was her friend, and though everything he had said was true, Martha wasn’t the type of person to do such a thing. It couldn’t be her...It just couldn’t. 

But, if not her than who? 

“I’m sorry JD,” Veronica mumbled, sitting back down next to him and taking his hand in hers. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just, Martha isn’t the type, k? We aren’t looking for her. We’re looking for someone who would actually kill someone...not like Martha,” Veronica explained softly, kissing his forehead and pulling him closer to her. Sometimes JD reminded her of a small child, the way he didn’t know what he said wrong and the reactions he received brought tears to his eyes. He buried his head in Veronica’s chest, letting her pet his hair out of his eyes and tell him that it was alright. He didn’t understand humans sometimes. 

“If not her, than who?” he mumbled with a sniff, looking up at Veronica through his eyelashes. Her hair was nice. Her eyelashes perfect. Her chin was perfect, and her skin was as white as his mind was dark. His eyes wandered to her perfect red lips, her wonderful collarbones...Shaking his head he brought his mind back to the current subject. There was time for the other stuff later. “Who else is there?” 

Veronica bit her lip, a slow smile spreading across her face. 

“I dunno, Jason, my boy. I do know how we might find out though,” she said, smiling slightly as an idea hit her. She couldn’t believe it hadn’t been her first thought, or that JD hadn’t thought of it first. “I think, if we start a rumour that someone in school murdered them, the person that did it would panic and make it obvious who did it…” She explained, trailing off as her thought began to fall properly into place. 

JD laughed, looking up and kissing Veronica’s jawline gently. it made perfect sense. His girl was a genius. He real, honest to God genius. 

“Have I ever told you how smart, and wonderful, and pretty you are...I mean, Veronica Sawyer, how’d a guy get so damn lucky?” He asked, his mood swinging back and forth faster than the rain falling from the sky. He kissed her on the lips, pulling away and letting her look into his eyes. Eye contact was sometimes hard for him. If he didn’t look away, it meant he was into whatever was going on...he was into everything Veronica could do. 

“I don’t know...how’d I get such a beautiful, smart guy?” she asked, answering a question with a question of her own. She honestly had no idea...they had met under such strange circumstances, and then continued to do so. Their entertainment was what turned other’s stomachs; The horror of reality. The pain of real life. The hurt of being in love. While she could point out every major milestone in their friendship (mostly because she had initiated them) she still couldn’t pin point the whys of it all...The why she had gotten so damn lucky with him. 

With a plan set, and ideas swirling they let themselves rest and forget the death and the mess that they were in. They let themselves go, let themselves just be seventeen for a little while. Even though both were aware it wasn’t going to last and that they had school tomorrow they lost themselves in each other, just a flurry of hands and whispered promises witnessed by the dusk. 

They stayed together that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review loves:)


	7. Chapter Seven: Snake in Your Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things get a little messier and the picture get's clearer.

“They know who did it,” Veronica whispered to her friends as they sat around the lunch room. “Rumour has it that the police are gonna get them...yeah, crazy, right? They say they have the names and everything?” 

She could see her friend’s eyes widen, and she winked at JD across the lunch room. Their plan was in action, and they could already feel the friction in the air as they spread the rumour that the killer was soon to be caught. No one thought it was suicide any more. Veronica and JD has already got the more thrilling murder theory passed around and everyone was whispering behind their hands, telling little stories and adding their own embellishments. Now everyone has their own theories-their own gory stories. 

One factor was the same in every story, though. No one said the name of the supposed offender. It was all part of the plan. Act as if you knew, but don’t let your guard down. 

As Veronica spread the rumours JD watched. He examined the stilled faces of his fellow students and teachers alike. He waited to see a hint of fear and recognition. He looked at the other football players, and at the less popular girls. He checked the creepers, and the druggies. Finally he noted the table at which Veronica sat with her closest ‘friends’ (the real brat-pack). He saw one face in particular that stood out among the rest-Duke. She looked scared, a thin sheen of sweat across her forehead. 

‘Bingo, baby,’ JD thought, gathering his things up and grabbing Veronica by the arm as he exited the lunch room. He couldn’t quite believe that it was Duke-She wasn’t as smart as many of the other students, she didn’t really have any real motive...but the look in her eyes, that couldn’t have been a lie. Even if she wasn’t the real killer, she knew something, or thought she did. 

“Who is it?” hissed Veronica when they stopped in the hallway, pressed into a corner beside the lockers. She could tell he had found something. He looked excited. He was smiling, his white teeth shining the the afternoon light falling through the wall to ceiling windows at the end of the hall. 

“Duke,” JD answered, not a waiver in his tone. He was already working through it in his mind. It could make sense...there had always been a kind of invisible fight between Duke and Chandler, and the Ram and Kurt weren’t really a favourite among anyone. She was definitely crazy-Maybe it was just enough to push her over the edge. He looked down at Veronica, searching her eyes for some sort of recognition and found the shine on understanding almost immediately. She knew something he didn’t about Duke’s relations with the other pupils, after all, she was with her all day every day. 

“That makes sense,” Veronica began, slowly. “I mean, She was the next most popular one after Chandler, and she knew it. Chandler would talk down to her...tell her she was worthless, and dull compared with her...And Kurt and Ram...they were horrible. Always trying to prove that they weren’t hot for each other by getting all the girls to lay them. I mean, like, they used force sometimes...Duke was scared of them after that-She thought she was pregnant for a while…” Veronica trailed off as the final pieces began to fit together. Duke had looked scared in the lunch room when they had said they knew who did it (purposefully looking everyone one they told as if the person sitting next to them was the one). She had motivation, and reason. She had the ability and access to the victims…

“Yeah, it makes sense,” was all JD said as he felt relief flooding his body. If there was a suspect it made his anxiety die down. If there was someone of something to point his mind towards, to blame, other than himself. He couldn’t have known it was Duke without Veronica. He didn’t pay enough attention to her. He couldn’t have known. 

Now came the hard part...the part where they had to a) expose her or b) get her out of the way themselves, and by the look on Veronica’s face she was thinking of the latter answer herself. 

“W-we aren’t gonna kill her,” Veronica said, surely, though her voice shook. That wasn’t on the table as an option, though she could tell it had just flickered through both of their heads just then. She already saw her hands shaking on a gun’s trigger and she hoped to the God she didn't even believe in that it wouldn’t come to that. She hoped that if it did come to it she could do it herself, and would be able to keep JD away from it. She didn’t think he would be able to take it. 

Before JD could talk to her about it they heard a scream down the hallway, both their heads simultaneously whipping in the direction of the disturbance. To Veronica the scream was somewhat familiar, the crying a sound she knew all too well. 

“McNamara!” She breathed before she pulled away from Jason’s grasp that she had unconsciously let herself fall into and ran towards the crying. A small crowd had already gathered and she had to shoulder her way through the gathered students before she could even see what she was looking for. 

McNamara was on the floor in front of the ladies room, a bottle of prescription pills scattered beside her, her eyes were big and watery as she cried. Veronica could see she had already swallowed many of the pills, and her dose was already quite high. Grabbing her off the floor she began to guide her friend to the nurse's office. 

“Move!” She yelled as she pushed through the crowd, not even waiting for it to move out of her way. Heather was shaking. Her breath was coming too quickly. She was sweating and shivering at the same time, her pupils shot. 

JD watched as Veronica half carried her friend to the office, and wondered if there was a correlation between the rumours they were circulating and the apparent suicide attempt of the meekest Heather. She could smell foul play, but he didn’t know where it came from. It was falling off every fake bitch in the school and that was more than half the students. 

\----------------------

“Why’d you do it?” Veronica asked softly, sitting next to Heather as she lay her bed. Her pale pink sheets looked red in comparison to her chalk white face, her feathered dream catcher looked solid and strong compared to her shaking hands. She looked so little in her big bed, barely making a dent in the fluffy mattress and voluptuous comforter. 

“Because I know who did it…” Heather whimpered, tears rising to her eyes. “And I don’t want it to be true, and if it is true, I don’t want to be there to see it coming of, Ronnie.” Her voice shook nearly as much as her hands did as they grabbed the pink sheets, her nails going white with the pressure. “Ronnie, I’m so sad, all the time. I’m always scared. I’m always hurting. Don’t I deserve to be happy?” She was really crying now and Veronica was fidgeting, wondering what she should do. She wasn’t one for affection or comforting words with anyone except Jason lately…

“Of course you deserve to be happy, Heather,” Veronica mumbled, climbing into bed beside her dearest friend and pulling her shivering body to her own, trying to impart some small part of her straight to her friend. “You do. I swear. Can you tell me who you think it is? I think I know, and Jason and I...we’re gonna make it better, okay? We’ll make it better. You don’t have to think about it. You don’t have to, not ever, if you don’t want to.” 

“It’s Duke...I know it is. She told me, everything. Ronnie, she just wanted me to know. She knew I’d off myself...I didn’t for a long time, just to make her mad. She started calling me though, telling me I wasn’t worth it. Ronnie, I tried not to believe it, but what she said, it’s all true. I know it is.” 

Veronica tried her best to comfort her friend, staying with her all night and the next day. Talking to her. Telling her she would be okay. Telling her Duke was a lying bitch and didn’t know shit about her. Didn’t know that she was a bloody fantastic friend and a good girl and a pretty human who deserved nothing but the best. 

When she went back home on the third day she was even more determined to get Duke back for what she was doing. For her screwed up sense of self justice and retribution. 

JD was waiting for her, sprawled out on her bed in a worn out flannel shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. His hair was must. He looked perfect, but Veronica was hardly thinking of that. 

“I wanna fucking kill her,” she hissed, flopping down next to him and laying her head on his chest. “We know it was her. We just gotta prove it, the lying snake.”

JD didn’t respond, just pet her hair and tried to keep his breathing even as she fell asleep on his chest. He hoped she didn’t mean what she said, about killing Duke, but at the same time he almost wanted to. He wanted to know what it would feel like to rid the world of some small evil. To purge Westerburg of the Demon that had wheedled it’s way into their heads and lied it’s way into some of the student's beds and cried it’s way out of others.   
There was even a part of him that felt sorry for her. The things people had said about her. The things people had done to her. It was a small part that couldn’t really see the light, but it was there all the same. It was the part that didn’t want to kill her. It was the part that didn’t want to hurt her. 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Ronnie,” He mumbled as he too drifted into the sweet oblivion of the night.


	8. Screwed Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected final to a long wasted life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter guys!! I am so, so sorry this took me so long to write and post, but here it is!   
> I hope you like it!

The arrest woke Veronica. The sirens were ringing through the night, a dark cloud looming over her as she tried to realize what was going on; Where was JD? What was going on? Who was being arrested? Had they found them, the police? Had they taken in Heather Duke? 

JD wasn’t beside her, and Veronica quickly got to her feet, grabbing her clothes and throwing them on as she ran down the stairs towards the front door, letting herself out into the cold night air. She shivered, her skin cold against her own touch as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold the warmth in. JD...where was JD? What was going on?

Duke was outside her door, looking slightly crazed, a knife in her shaking hands. JD was nowhere in sight, but the police sirens were drawing closer. Veronica put her hands in front of her, a sign of surrender. She didn’t know what was going on; They had hoped to make Duke confess and turn herself in, but here she was, trying to finish her off. Veronica knew after Duke killed her, it wouldn’t be hard to pose it as suicide. The only people that would know better would be Mcnamara, JD, and Duke herself. She shuddered, knowing that the other two would follow if she died.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked Duke, trying to keep her voice calm. Duke was like a mad dog, likely to strike at any sudden movement. She didn’t have time to move as the red-head lunged, throwing the knife forward. Veronica never felt the impact…

JD fell forward, the knife lodged firmly in his stomach. Veronica screamed. Duke fell to her knees and the Police began to swarm. Veronica was beside JD in a moment, seeing that he had been sitting on the roof only moments before. Mcnamara was sitting beside her now, her arms wrapped around her...where had she come from?

Oh, God, was JD dying?

“Jason, no, Jason, why did you do that?” She asked him, blankly. She had wrapped herself around him, letting him hold her. She couldn’t quite get her mind around it...Duke was being arrested, Mcnamara explaining something to an officer as someone began to try to take Jason away from her. She wouldn’t let him go. 

“Jason, no, JD, please,” Veronica cried, holding her friend-Her best friend-her lover to her chest. The medic finally managed to pry him away, moving him to the ambulance that was waiting, sirens shrieking. 

Veronica went with him. 

\-------------------------

Later that night everything was explained; Duke had called Mcnamara to tell her she was going to kill Veronica, attempting to kill two birds with one stone; If Veronica Was dead and Mcnamara knew Duke had done it, hopefully Duke would kill herself. If they were both dead, JD would be easy enough to kill too. Mcnamara had taken hope from Veronica’s words earlier, though, and decided it was time to tip off the police. 

JD had been smoking on the roof, but when he saw the sirenians he had hidden himself away, watching the scene unfold. He hoped that Veronica was staying safe inside, but when she came out he threw himself between the two girls, only to find a knife lodged in his stomach. He had completed his most immediate mission; To save Veronica. 

Mcnamara had explained everything to the police, leaving out a few of the details, giving them just enough information to prove that Duke was crazy and that the others were innocent. She even disguised the murders, saying that she had pushed the three towards suicide instead of saying she had actually killed them. There was no way to disguise the fact that she had been out to kill Veronica and herself. 

JD was labeled as Veronica’s boyfriend who had been staying the night, and had happened to be there just in time to protect her from the freak accident that was about to take place. 

That was her story, and she impressed Veronica greatly with her spur of the moment bravery and forward thinking. The two girls sat together by JD’s bedside after they were questioned by the police and then cleared. They were holding hands watching the life slowly drip away from their friend. 

“He was the new kid,” Veronica whispered into the silence of the hospital room, her eyes never leaving JD’s pale face. He looked beautiful, even though the life was slowly leaving his beautiful face. His lips were blue. His eyes were closed, his cheeks white where a flush should have been. “He came to my house for a party...he brought beer. There wasn’t a party and we didn’t drink the beer,” She continued, wiping a tear from her cheek with one shaking hand, the other wrapped tightly around her friends. 

“He’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?” Mcnamara said, though her voice shook for all the bravado of the words. “He just lost a lost of blood, but he’ll be okay. I know he will.” 

Veronica wasn’t so sure; The parlor of his cheeks, the sweat beading on his forehead, the heroics he had committed...Everything was too much. He had to live. She had to tell him that she loved him, that he was a hero, and that he had been right. She had to take him in her arms and hold him and give him the childhood that had been stripped from his the day his mother died. She had to give him all her love and hope to not be left behind. 

The hospital room remained silent and temperature controlled. No other visitors made appearances that night, or the day that followed. 

\---------------------

“Mrs. Sawyer,” the nurse said, smiling as the teen dressed in blue walked into the hospital after school three days after the incident (it had been labeled as Mania, but Veronica wasn’t so sure). She had returned to classes earlier that day, but she would still spend all her free hours with her friend in the hospital. His medically induced coma lulling him to sleep; JD had lost so much blood they had sedated him, now for three days, to slow his vitals and hope that he could return to normal. She prayed by his side, though she wasn’t the religious sort. 

“He’s awake.” 

Veronica rushed to JD’s side. 

“And how are you, Darling?” he rasped as she entered the room, his voice sore from disuse. Her prayers had been answered, her JD given back to her. 

“It’s been Chaos without you,” she told him, getting to her knees by his bedside and wrapping her arms around his torso, careful not to disturb the multiple tubes that connect JD’s life to a machine by the bed. 

“Chaos is good for a moment of panic,” JD replied, a small smile playing at his pale lips. He took Veronica’s hand in his, looking her over, making sure that there were no scratches or bruises to mar her angel-like form. He had dove to her rescue; He hoped it had worked. The teen was relieved to find no such pain etched into her being, finding her as pure and perfect as he had left her, three whole days before. 

“I just want you to know how much a I love you, Jason. I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance to say it again, and I want to say it always now; You were right, we got her. She’s in Juvenile Detention now and we have her, and oh God, JD I was so sad for her and you and Heather...The world, it just gets inside you and screws you over, but now that you’re here and you’re okay...You used to tell me how sad you were, how you were afraid you were useless...well, Jason, look; Because of you I’m alive!” Veronica said this all in one huge gasp of air, shuddering with the effort to tell her friend everything she needed him to know, and taking another huge breath she told him the most important part again; “JD, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

JD had replied. He had given himself away, he had let someone in. He was hurting, but it was a good kind of hurt. The kind that you don’t want to stop; The knowledge that the world could destroy you, fuck you over until there was nothing left to screw with and you could still stand up again and have a second chance. Have someone say they loved you...needed you. Told you what they thought, and why they thought it, and how much you needed them…

“I love you.” 

It was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


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